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03 March 2008 @ 08:38 pm
In all but Blood, ch 2  
Title: In all but Blood
Rating: PG-13, for now
Summary: When Patroclus accidentally kills a friend in an argument, he and his father are forced to flee to Phthia, where the queen is said to be a goddess and he's asked to look after her tiny son, unknowing that a series of events has been put into play that will change the world forever.

 

Goddesses


Polymele showed up a few days after Patroclus and Menoetius. There were fading purple bruises where someone had grabbed her arm, but other than that she was acting perfectly happy. She was delighted with her new brother, bouncing him and smiling.

 

“He's got the grip of a a titan,” she said, prying a strand of her hair from his hand.

 

After the initial wonder at Achilles, Patroclus had lost interest. He couldn't understand women's fascination with babies. Even at two years, he didn't do much but eat, sleep, and grab stuff, most of which ended up in his mouth. Although it was fun to play with him sometimes, for the most part Patroclus found him rather boring.

 

A lot of his time was spent walking on the beach or through the rocks and trees on the mountainside above it. It wasn't so different from Opus, and on clear days he thought he may be able to see Euboea across the channel from atop the rocks. Some days Polymele or his father would come find him to see what he was up to, and a couple times even Peleus or Thetis would come talk to him.

 

“Have you made any friends?” Polymele asked once.

 

“Not really,” he replied, picking up a rock and tossing it into the water. “Father says I'm not allowed to talk to anyone. Says it'll defile them.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Polymele said. “I suppose he feels the gods will forgive our family.”

 

“Hey,” he said, suddenly. “Is Thetis really a goddess? I heard some of the slaves talking about her.”

 

Polymele was silent for a moment and adjusted Achilles, whom she had been holding, on her hip. Then she sat down on a rock and shifted her brother onto her lap.

 

“Did you know that we share the same bloodline?” She asked.

 

“What?”

 

“How much do you know about your grandmother?”

 

“Aegina?” Patroclus said, frowning slightly. “I've heard say she was a sea nymph, but I'm not sure how much I believe that one. She had two sons—Aeacus, and who was immortal, and my father.”

 

“Menoetius,” Polymele said, nodding. “The immortal son Aeacus had a son, too. His name was Peleus. Yes,” she smiled at Patroclus' surprised expression. “my own father. For circumstances similar to your own, he fled here himself.”

 

Patroclus looked out across the water.

 

“Were you ever told what happened to her?” Polymele asked.

 

“No.”

 

“One day she went out for a walk on the beach, and she never came back. She was getting older, but was still so beautiful, and nobody knew what happened to her. They said she 'went home'. People make stories to explain what they can't in any other way.

 

“Is Thetis a goddess? She's a very beautiful woman, who showed up one day across the sea with my father, already married. Nobody knows who she is or where she came from. I wonder if sometimes the gods are given credit where they don't deserve it.”

 

Patroclus thought about this for the rest of the day. He looked at Thetis, and the way her hair shone in the light. At times she seemed just a normal woman, trying to live a normal life. But at others she almost did seem a goddess. He could see why people could get so confused about it.

 

That night, Menoetius came into his son's room before he went to bed. He sat on the bed next to where Patroclus was laying and stretched out his legs.

 

“How are you doing?” he asked. Patroclus knew the true meaning behind the words, though—Menoetius had a way of saying things in a completely casual manner, but mean something much more serious.

 

“Okay, I guess,” he replied. “It still hurts.”

 

Menoetius smiled, and suddenly Patroclus felt a strange fear grip him. There in the dark, he had never seen his father look so old. His expression was so sad, and all the lines on his face seemed exaggerated. The lamplight coming in the doorway brought the out the greys in his golden-brown hair. For the first time, Patroclus saw how much older he was than Peleus.

 

“You look so much like your mother,” Menoetius said, brushing his son's hair from his face. “She was dark, too. It was her black hair and golden skin that I fell in love with first.”

 

“Father...” Patroclus' voice was quavering.

 

“But it was your grandmother that had those green eyes.”

 

“Polymele told me what happened to her,” Patroclus said. “About how she went for a walk and didn't come back. Why did she do that?”

 

Menoetius looked at his son for a long moment, then across the room thoughtfully.

 

“I wondered about that for a long time, too,” he said, finally. “I still don't know the answer. I can only guess. Sometimes people do things for there is no one, single answer. That's the way it always is with big decisions. But I think she did it, mostly, for the faith of others.

 

“You see, Patroclus, we live in an age of heroes—Heracles, Jason, Theseus—but when we're all gone, what is there but stories? The tales of gods and magic is what parents will have to tell their children. And if that spell is broken, what will people have left to believe in?

 

“I think she may have left to preserve that magic, so that people will have a grand story to tell their children. So that boys will still have their heroes, someone to aspire to be, and girls will still be charmed by the courage of the women who hold on through their loves' hardships.

 

“And who knows? Maybe, if you become a hero, you will be the story that is told. And some little boy will grow up with your great deeds, and the romance in your story. He'll be there someday to lay a wreath on your tomb in your honour.”

 

“Really?” Patroclus looked up at his father in wonder.

 

“Mmhm.” Menoetius smiled down at his son again, that same sad smile. “Patroclus--” he paused. “I can't stay here. I'm a king, and I can't abandon my people.”

 

Patroclus looked desperately up at his father. “But--”

 

Menoetius laid a finger on Patroclus' lips.

 

“I will stay until you are purified,” he said. “but then I must leave. You will stay here for a couple more years, and then you and Achilles will leave. It's already been arranged—you will go to live and train will Chiron.”

 

Patroclus sat up suddenly. “You mean...?”

 

“Yes, that Chiron, who trained Jason himself.” Patroclus glowed, and Menoetius laughed and ruffled his hair. “It's late. You should get to sleep.”

 

He leaned down and kissed his son's hair, then stood up and left. It was still a long time before Patroclus got to sleep, though.


Chapter Notes:

So why does Patroclus look like this? Cause ever since I was very little, he's had green eyes in my mind. I also find green and brown to be very beautiful together, and thought it would be neat if he was dark, but had green eyes (I actually have a black friend with green eyes...) Meanwhile, Menoetius is a brunette name. It makes sense in my head *laughs*



I'll write the next chapter as soon as I can. I think I've got the basic idea of the purifying ceremonies. I think I'll have to fill in some blanks, but I guess I don't feel so bad about that.

 

Now I'm going to sleep. I wrote this thing today between classes, but I've been feeling terribly groggy all day. It's been sort of like spring, and I've been walking around in a hoodie, but it's been raining. And now it's frickin' snowing, but all this type of whether makes me kinda like this.

 

Because of this, if you catch any sort of grammar/spelling mistakes, it'd be great if they were pointed out. Either way, I'll read through it again later and fix them.


Part Three: Purification and Goodbyes

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Current Mood: accomplishedaccomplished
 
 
 
See you later, instigator: Y Tu Mamá También (by hyelle_narmo)oudeteron on March 6th, 2008 09:44 pm (UTC)
Interesting chapter! I'm still kinda getting used to reading about them as kids, but all the same, I really like your Patroclus. He'd look lovely with green eyes, by the way.

“And who knows? Maybe, if you become a hero, you will be the story that is told. And some little boy will grow up with your great deeds, and the romance in your story. He'll be there someday to lay a wreath on your tomb in your honour.”
Guess who! *shifty eyes* Are we getting to the parallels? ; )

About the mistakes (hey, you brought it up!), I caught a few things that looked like just typos. If you're planning to go through the chapter again, I think you'll notice them anyway.
MissTeacakesmissteacakes on March 6th, 2008 11:15 pm (UTC)
Thankies ^^ Don't you just love spell-checkers? They catch names (mine tried to change Patroclus to Patricide), but can never get repeated words and stuff...

Um...yeah. Wait till you see what I got *cackles*. I may have found a really good parallel...but I won't spoil it. It's not till the chapter after next >.<

And yes, I find it bizarre to think of Achilles being 2 yrs old, too. And the fact is, boys are just not that interested in babies. Poor Achilles has some rough times ahead, being the little one.
See you later, instigator: Remus/Sirius1 (by wild_huntress)oudeteron on March 7th, 2008 12:49 pm (UTC)
*cracks up* Patricide? Wow.
But spell-checkers really are tricky things. Not to mention I can't use mine since my Word isn't the English version and therefore would consider everything in English wrong. Even if I "switched" the language option.

Oh, I can't wait! ^_^

We're so used to the warrior-Achilles, aren't we? (And it's pretty amusing when I admit I wouldn't be interested in him if I saw him as just a little kid, either. Yay for hindsight. XD) In any case, I'm sure Patroclus will change his mind...eventually.